


there's grief, there's anger, and then comes hatred

by FiendMaz



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon-Typical Violence, Civil War Team Iron Man, Gen, Grieving Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Really Character Death, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Punches Steve Rogers, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Lives, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiendMaz/pseuds/FiendMaz
Summary: Many things terrified Peter throughout his life; losing his family, being hated by his friends and losing his own life. But right now, he couldn’t remember what he feared more than losing the sound of Tony Stark’s heartbeat.(Picks up after Tony Stark makes the last and final snap.)--Important information: this is an incredibly Anti-Steve Rogers and Anti-Team Cap fic. DLDR.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 520
Collections: Spiderson/Irondad Comfort





	there's grief, there's anger, and then comes hatred

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tag warnings before reading.
> 
> This fic has been a long-time coming though I only wrote it yesterday. I just needed to vent and I've been holding it off since AOU. Okay, since The Avengers. The disrespect to Iron Man is so real. I'm so annoyed but then again, what can you do when MCU is run by Rogers fanboys. 😩
> 
> (Title lifted from a quote that's copyrighted to "The Blossoming Chrysalis".)
> 
> -
> 
> Here's a saying to think about: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

_Thump_.

…

Many things terrified Peter throughout his life; losing his family, being hated by his friends and losing his own life. But right now, he couldn’t remember what he feared more than losing the sound of Tony Stark’s heartbeat. His heart was in his throat and he couldn’t say a word. Fear seized him fully.

_Thump._

…

…

For years, he had looked up to Tony Stark’s genius and idolized the man who triumphed over an impossible situation then came out with a bang as Iron Man. There was so much he imagined he’d say, that he’d do and would show. He wanted to prove himself, to be regarded almost as an equal.

_Thump._

…

…

…

And he’d done none of that. He’d stumbled and tripped over himself, stuttered in his insecurity and failed to show what he was truly capable of. But he thought he had _time_. He thought… surely, he would have time. Life wouldn’t take him away after making him suffer and Tony Stark… Tony Stark _always, always_ rose above any hardship, took down all enemies and thrived. Tony Stark couldn’t die.

_Thump._

…

…

…

…

“ _No_ ,” Peter whispered shakily under his breath. It was the first thing he uttered since the snap and he barely registered saying it. His heart was jack-rabbiting inside his chest and fear was coating over every fiber of his being. “ _No,_ ” he uttered louder in denial. Why couldn’t he hear any heartbeat?

…

…

The silence was deafening.

…

It was damning.

..

This couldn’t be real life.

…

He must be dreaming.

…

In what world does Tony Stark die?

…

 _This_ world?

…

Why was everyone taken away from him?

…

Why?

…

Why?

…

Why?

…

A wretched sob broke through the terrible silence and he quickly realized that he made the sound. He was crying and it hurt. God, it hurt so much. Because why? Why can’t he hear Mr. Stark’s heart anymore? Why? “BEAT!” He was shouting. He was scrambling. When did he move? It didn’t matter. He had to make sure Mr. Stark’s heart beat again. “Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark.” The armor was in the way.

Ripping it off was proving difficult. _Nanites_ , a part of his mind remembered. How do I remove nanites? There was a commotion around him and suddenly he wasn’t by Mr. Stark’s side anymore. He was being hauled away. Was it Ms. Potts? He had to be gentle. He looked over his shoulder.

 _“YOU,_ ” Peter growled, his voice dangerous and angry in a way he’d never heard himself sound before as a tidal wave of hot anger and disgust crashed over him. He kicked back, hard, landed on all fours and twisted around to deliver another kick. His leg was caught. He screamed and launched himself to deliver a powerful punch. “YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM MR. STARK!”

Karen was speaking. Her voice was soothing but that wasn’t what he needed now. What he needed was to get rid of this man, this… this… He needed to get this piece of crap away from Mr. Stark. His mentor needed rest and peace right now to recover. Not be faced with this… Mr. Stark needed rest.

They tumbled onto the ground from his punch and he heard a pained groan from the other man. It wasn’t enough. He delivered another punch and another, another, another. Then a hand gripped his arm and tried pulling him away. “KILL MODE. KILL MODE, KAREN! KILL MODE!” He was screaming.

No one was going to prevent his mission of keeping this man away from Mr. Stark. Not a single soul.

Distractions were dangerous. He knew this and he paid for it by the piercing pain through his left shoulder. His peripheral view told him it was an arrow but he was busy. This one was first then the rest would follow. He pulled out the arrow and drove it hard down onto the man he was straddling. Blood poured. But it wasn’t enough. He remembered how Mr. Stark looked like and this wasn’t nearly enough. So he secured his target with his webs and punched and punched and punched.

Punched and punched and punched and punched and he was crying while he was punching. He was screaming as he punched. He was pouring out all his anger and grief and fear with every punch. He couldn’t stop and he didn’t want to. He wanted to make the other feel what he was feeling. He wanted them to know, to feel guilt for once in their goddamned life. To understand how important Mr. Stark was to him, how the loss would devastate him and how he couldn’t lose another person.

And he was angry. So, so very angry. “ARE YOU HAPPY!!!” He screamed. “ARE YOU HAPPY HE’S DYING?!” He demanded. “ARE YOU HAPPY YOUR WORK IS NEARLY DONE?” He asked. “I WON’T LET IT HAPPEN!” He declared. “YOU WON’T LAY ANOTHER HAND ON MR. STARK! I WILL KILL YOU!”

It wasn’t a promise because he wasn’t a killer. And Mr. Stark… Mr. Stark told him to be better. But he wanted to hurt and that wasn’t off the table. It couldn’t be or he wouldn’t know what to do. Because… Because… he couldn’t hear. He couldn’t hear anything. There was no heartbeat. He knew.

He knew. He knew. He knew.

Peter wished he didn’t.

“Are you happy now?” He questioned in a softer voice, immense grief taking over his fury, his anger. “You’ve succeeded, Captain America, Steven Grant Rogers, sir. You’ve succeeded. Your work is done. Mr. Stark is dead. Tony Stark has finally died. Are you happy now? Is your world a happier place? Because mine is dead. You stole another person from me. I’ve lost so much and you’ve killed him.”

He wasn’t punching anymore. He didn’t know when he stopped.

“You almost killed him in Siberia and I thought I lost the chance to get to know Mr. Stark. But he survived because that’s what he does. Except now… now, you’ve finally done it. You’ve killed him. I guess you have no use for him now that the only person you care about is alive, huh? Good for you.”

Peter took a deep rattling breath. “Good for you. You took Mr. Stark from me. From Ms. Potts. From Morgan. You think none of us knew what was happening whilst we were in the Soul Stone? Think again. You harassed him. You demanded from him. You betrayed him. You tried to kill him. And then when he finally found peace, you demanded from him again. You have no shame, sir. Truly. You’re a Grade A+ asshole and I don’t know what the world was thinking making you a super-soldier. Maybe it wasn’t thinking. Maybe only assholes get to do what they want and survive. Because everyone who has died on me are good people and now Mr. Stark is dead too and yet you’re still alive.”

He staggered to a stand with Karen’s help using the iron spider legs and turned to look at everyone else around him. Most were down on the ground. He wondered whether they were paying for all they did to Mr. Stark and whether that was enough for him. It wasn’t. They weren’t dead and Mr. Stark was. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t justice. He hated being able to breathe right now.

“I hope you’re all happy. You, criminals. You don’t deserve clemency or pardons or forgiveness. You deserve hell and all the pain that goes with it. You deserve to burn. You deserve to die. But you’re all alive thanks to the man you all hate and think is the root of all evil. God, I hope you’re all proud of yourselves. The superheroes of the world!” He shouted and threw his hands out. “Super-assholes.”

Peter wanted to make them hurt. He did. But he was tired now. His anger had subsided and he was just… He was sad. He turned away from all of them and walked back over to Ms. Potts where she was still kneeling and crying on Mr. Stark. He wanted to do that too. So he did. He knelt down and –

 _Thump_.

He went rigid.

_…_

_…_

_…Thump._

“Oh my god, Mr. Stark,” he whispered almost reverently.

…

…

… _Thump._

Alive. Alive. Alive.

…

…

… _Thump._

Peter could hear. He could _hear_. “Ms. Potts – I – Mrs. Stark,” he whispered, scared to startle her or Mr. Stark, and shook her shoulder gently. She withdrew and peered at him with a red, swollen and teary eye along with a shaky smile. “Mrs. Stark,” he spoke before she could speak, “I – heartbeat.”

She looked confused.

“I can hear,” he whispered pointedly, eyes imploring. “I can hear. Heartbeat.” Sentences were escaping him but she – she had to understand. She… “Mrs. Stark. Please. We need – hospital.”

Mrs. Stark swallowed loudly, her face sickly pale, and her eyes dull. But then life seemed to fill her and she inhaled sharply before raising her hand quickly and pressing two fingers on Mr. Stark’s neck. “Oh my god, _Tony_ ,” she echoed his earlier words unknowingly and for a few seconds, there was joy.

Joy that turned to fear.

Fear that Peter was suddenly feeling too. Time. They had no time. Time. Time. “DOCTOR STRANGE!”

His yell seemed to snap all the other fighters out of their stupor and, without anyone else knowing why, there was a chorus of shouts repeating the name he had screamed for. And within a blink, red covered his vision and he scrambled back to get a better view, his heart beating wildly in fear, fear.

“Mr. Stark?” he murmured, confused.

Gentle hands cradled his face and he was looking up to the tear-streaked, smiling face of Mrs. Stark.

“Oh, Peter. Let’s go, we need to be quick.”

There was nothing else that needed to be said. He shot up to a stand and helped her up too. Orange glowed and the red – the magical cloak – was wrapped around Mr. Stark. He followed, unwilling to take his eyes off his mentor for even one second. But before he knew it, he was being told to wait.

Wait outside. Outside where Mr. Stark wasn’t. He refused, he wanted to go with. Wanted to make sure Mr. Stark wasn’t being hurt or – or – yet gentle hands were now gripping onto his left hand and he couldn’t leave Mrs. Stark. She was sitting down and looking up at him as he stood, tense, facing off against Doctor Strange. He was being told Doctor Cho would handle it. That they couldn’t go in.

“Just – make sure no one else enters this place. No one,” Peter told the man. It was an ultimatum.

Because if anyone, _anyone_ other than Mr. War Machine, Mr. Happy, Morgan or May – _May_ – came, he wasn’t going to stop. He was going to finish his mission. He was – was – was going to… to – to ki –

“Only those considered family will be allowed,” Doctor Strange promised gravely. “I’ll ensure it.”

“Good. I – good,” Peter mumbled and finally collapsed onto the chair next to Mrs. Stark. He didn’t want to fight anymore. All he wanted was to know that Mr. Stark would be fine and that he would still have time. Time to do all he wanted and show everything he was capable of to Mr. Stark. He also wanted to get to know his mentor more. His mentor who mourned for him the past five years.

His mentor who he got to know so much as he watched from the Soul Stone. His mentor who kept their photo framed in the Lake House. His mentor who told Morgan stories about him and bought Morgan Spiderman goods. His mentor who thought of him and invented time travel to get him back.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, Peter,” Mrs. Stark sighed tiredly and rested her head on his shoulder. She reared back in surprise and horror. “Peter! You’re hurt! What happened?” Her hands fluttered around his injured shoulder where his blood was still leaking out but at a sluggish pace. “Nurse!”

“Barton fired an arrow at me. I’ll be fine, Mrs. Stark,” Peter managed a small smile for her. “It’s already healing. I’ll be fine. Here, let me change seats,” he stood and ambled over to sit on her other side. “You can rest on this shoulder.”

“Oh, Peter…” Mrs. Stark sighed again, this time more fondly than tiredly. “Please let the nurse check you over anyway? Just to be sure. And so she’d not have wasted time coming over, okay? For me?”

Peter couldn’t refuse. He allowed the nurse to clean up his shoulder and bandage him. “See? Fine.”

“It’s better safe than sorry, dear,” Mrs. Stark patted his hair and carefully pulled him close to tuck him under her chin. “You know, May and I… we’ve been getting to know each other quite well… she showed us your baby pictures. You were such a cute child. You’re still cute now, of course. Tony was so proud to find out you dressed up as him or Iron Man on Halloweens. Do you remember when…”

And Mrs. Stark went on, her voice a soothing balm to his fear-riddled heart.

*~*~*~*

Peter must have fallen asleep somehow because he wasn’t upright anymore and instead was lying down on a soft couch with his head on something firm but comfy. He shifted and wiggled and – and he looked up at Mrs. Stark’s smiling face. Her right hand was in his hair, combing through his sweat-dried curls, and her left was a grounding warmth on his stomach. He wasn’t wearing his spider suit.

“What –,” he swallowed through the dryness in his throat, “what – is there news?”

Mrs. Stark’s smile became fonder. “Why don’t you take a look yourself, honey?” Her eyes drifted off.

Immediately, fear seized Peter’s heart again but he tried to calm it. He followed her eye-line and his breath caught in his throat. There was Mr. Stark on the hospital bed, hooked up onto many machines and – and – he could hear the heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Loud. He couldn’t stop his cry.

Once his first sob ripped out of his throat, the next one came soon after then the next and the next. He was crying, howling, fear morphing into gratitude and cautious happiness and disbelief until he became delirious. But through it all, he could hear. Hear Mr. Stark’s heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Loud.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

*~*~*~*

_“C’mon, Spider-baby.”_

Only one person would call Peter that – well, only one male person would call him that. He must have fallen asleep again because he was hearing things and he wasn’t on the couch anymore. He was on a moderately hard bed, tucked into a warm and strong body. There was a blanket over him.

_“Wake up and let me see those brown eyes.”_

He giggled sleepily, a smile gracing his face as he imagined his mentor teasing him awake like this.

_“Big and googly.”_

The image of big cartoon eyes and a tongue sticking out made him chuckle through his feigned pout.

_“C’mon, buddy.”_

A hand was carding through his hair, masculine and comforting. He warbled something unintelligibly and burrowed closer to the heat of the body he was cuddling up against when he felt another hand, this time feminine, curl around his injured shoulder. It didn’t hurt anymore. Not injured. Not anymore. How long had he slept? He wanted to stay dreaming longer where Mr. Stark was awake.

But… he wanted to check. He wanted to make sure Mr. Stark was okay. He needed to be sure of it.

Peter opened his eyes and blinked his drowsiness away. His eyes first landed on the white blanket tucked around him followed by the railing on the end of the bed – hospital bed – before he snapped his head back to take a look at who he was cuddling. His breath caught in his throat. “Mr. Stark?”

“There you are, Pete,” Mr. Stark was smiling at him. “I’ve waited for you for five years, you know.”

And Peter laughed, light and relieved and joyful. “I’m here,” he promised.

“I’m here too, buddy,” Mr. Stark assured. “Thanks to you.”

“And you!” Peter beamed, his grin almost breaking his face. He had his mentor back. He had _time_.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a continuation to the saying and it goes: "The road to heaven is paved with good actions."
> 
> I know there's always two sides to a coin but honestly, if one side is a zig-zag path with the aim of protecting innocents and then living a fulfilling life with family while the other just bulldozes through others to save one man then... I know which side I'm on. Also, I guess, Merry Christmas? Hahahaha this is so not a cheerful fic for the holidays but hey, we're living in weird times so why not, right? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Advanced Merry Christmas! 😂


End file.
